One Night Is Never Enough (31 page)

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Authors: Anne Mallory

Tags: #Romance - Historical

BOOK: One Night Is Never Enough
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Charlotte pretended to keep looking at her cards, but she focused on Roman from the corner of her eye—could
see
the tightness he couldn’t hide.

“Best to be cautious,” Roman said, nodding. Idly. Too idly.

Bill and Milton immediately returned their gazes to their cards, shoulders tight. But Andreas’s eyes held a black gleam.

“I couldn’t agree more. In fact, I think we should discuss such caution at length. I’m sure that Miss Chatsworth would be enthralled by such a discussion. Perhaps we should even speak of the games in more detail. The ones currently running. I think she’d be decidedly
interested.

Andreas’s smile was dark. But Roman’s gaze promised dire consequences should he continue speaking.

Charlotte watched, unwillingly transfixed, exceedingly anxious with the conversation—both stated and unstated. She concentrated on Andreas as his eyes turned to hers, dark and deadly. Cruel. He was going to say something that would tip her world on end. She
knew
it. And all she could do was stare.

Roman’s brother
was
the kind of man a person wanted to examine because there was something intriguing and enticing about him. A predator luring his prey closer. Sending the same prey skidding from him, overpowering them with the sinister waves he exuded.

Unlike Roman, who would idly or hotly gut a person, then be on his way, Andreas looked as if he’d stay to coldly enjoy the fear and pain.

There was a rap on the door. “Enter,” Roman said. Relief that they were being interrupted was evident in his voice.

Charlotte shifted, and Roman’s attention turned to her at the unusual gesture.

A boy peered around the corner. “Boss? We need—”

All of the men were in sudden motion, even Andreas. Flicking some sort of symbol, signal, whatever, with their fingers.

Roman looked surprised for a second, any lingering anger temporarily overpowered.

“—someone to come down. Donald even said so,” the boy at the door finished.

One-eye cackled evilly. “Been a long time since you lost, Boss. Never seen you move so slow.”

Charlotte had no idea what he meant, Roman had moved so fast that she’d barely been able to see the motion. It had only been a hair later than the others, his attention on her.

“Well, bound to happen sometime,” he said lightly, pushing back his chair. “I’ll return in a few minutes,” he said to Charlotte. Then he sent a look full of dark meaning to Andreas, who tightened his lips.

One-eye cheerfully explained the meaning of the motions as Roman disappeared from the room. “You have to wait for the request to be uttered. Not fair otherwise. On card night, whoever is slowest has to deal with the problem.” He shrugged, smiling, obviously happy to have a change of subject as well. “Been a long while since it was Boss. Right surprising.”

Andreas looked even more unpleasant than usual. “Is it?”

One-eye shifted. “Aw, Merrick. He barely even showed it.”

The darker man gathered the cards. “All it takes is one moment of inattention.”

Silence descended. Milton started whistling—loudly in the suddenly quiet room. Andreas raked the rest of the cards in tight, controlled motions.

Then the edge of his mouth curled viciously. “What do you say, Miss Chatsworth? Wouldn’t you like to know the implications of what we were speaking about before Roman left?”

Andreas’s smile was . . . unpleasant. Bill shifted, obviously wanting to interject something.

“There seems to be a split in opinion as to whether I should,” she answered calmly. She could feel all of their eyes touch upon her. “And I admit myself curious, but I don’t see any dire need for me to know about it at this time if it makes Roman uncomfortable.”

That didn’t mean she couldn’t ask Roman later. Seduce him into explaining if she had to. But what it came down to was that she trusted Roman, and she didn’t trust Andreas. At all. Wouldn’t allow Andreas to plant dark seeds. Not when there were plenty of seeds of destruction already sowing.

“You will sacrifice your safety for Roman’s comfort?”

“I didn’t realize that my safety was at the center of the matter.”

Andreas leaned forward, shuffling the cards in his hands. “No? You have no idea what you are playing with, do you, little society girl?”

“I suppose I do not, Mr. Merrick.”

“Merrick . . .”

Andreas gave Bill a black look, turning his head to do so. She could see a badge of scars at his neck, diving down the back of his shirt. She knew intimately that Roman had similar markings. Wounds littering his frame. Speaking of fights and death and survival.

It should have been humbling that she thought so much of her social survival, when pure survival was a far greater fear. Overcoming a lifetime of thought that if one didn’t have society, then one might as well end it all, was a humorless thing.

“We’ve been hearing of your help with Sam,” Bill suddenly said, trying to break the tension. “Right swell of you.”

She focused on Bill in relief. “He has good ideas.”

“Well, as that may be, it’s nice to have you with us tonight, milady.”

“Thank you, Bill. Though you must tire of entertaining Roman’s guests,” Charlotte said lightly.

“Oh, no, milady.” He looked uncomfortable.

She smiled. “It’s fine, Bill.”

“No,” Andreas said coldly, shuffling the cards again. “He means Roman’s never invited anyone else.”

She swallowed, thrill and fear again snapping together at the revelation. Pushing at the knot within.

“You don’t like me,” she said calmly, deciding to state the obvious and get it out of the way. And to avoid the other aspect of his words. She was used to being disliked though it stung a little more deeply that Roman’s brother seemed to hate her.

Bill patted her hand. “Merrick don’t like anyone, milady. Don’t take it personal.”

“I don’t like careless fools,” Andreas said, coldness underlining each clipped word. “And I especially
dislike
people without regard.”

Charlotte kept her face impassive and tried to concentrate on the details of the man across from her. Such as how Andreas had such a crisp, patrician accent. Any street accent an overlay, unlike Roman, who held the exact opposite.

“I don’t mean your brother any harm.”

“No?” Andreas laughed without humor. “Wonderful.” He threw a card with a flick of his fingers to the place in front of Roman’s empty chair. “She doesn’t mean harm.” He flicked another card, but this time to Bill.

“Now, Merrick—”

But the look Andreas leveled on Bill made Bill’s mouth clamp tight. Disapproval shone from his eye, but he looked down, ceding to the other man.

Charlotte narrowed her eyes on Roman’s brother. “There’s no reason to be foul to your friends just because you dislike me, Mr. Merrick.” She could be just as clipped and crisp.

Andreas’s eyes darkened. Anger and confrontational excitement in their depths.

Bill tried to intercede. “Don’t worry about me, milady, Merrick’s always . . .”

But his words trailed off as Charlotte and Andreas exchanged gazes that could strip paint.

“I can be as foul as I wish.” He flicked a card from a line in the middle of his fingers as if it were a dagger. She wondered how it didn’t stab straight into the wood of the table in front of her, but it slid underneath the ones already piled. “And I have to say that I more than dislike you at present, Miss Chatsworth.”

“I can’t say that I find you remarkably charming or favorable either, Mr. Merrick. It’s a wonder anyone tolerates you at all.”

He stopped dealing, his fingers tightening around the cards.

She’d never admit it aloud, but he scared the devil out of her. Whereas Roman was probably equally as dangerous, he didn’t show it in quite the sinister way Andreas did. Roman had heat, a depth of feeling for other people. Andreas felt like black marble. Lacking feeling and warmth.

He smiled, a very cold smile that made her feel as if she’d never truly felt the emotion at all. “Most people don’t.”

She didn’t know how to respond to that admission, so she didn’t. Bill and Milton were paying very close attention to their cards, not waiting for them to be fully dealt before lifting and studying each one as if it held a secret they had long been searching for.

Andreas leaned forward, just a slight movement, and she resisted the urge to pull back in her chair. “I repeat—you have no idea what or who you are
playing
with.”

It wasn’t a question. “I didn’t realize I had to run my actions by you.”

Andreas gave a cold laugh. “I know why he likes you. It is beyond obvious. But I will hold your life
forfeit
if something happens to him.”

His tone was anything but idle.

Everything in her stilled. Not in the heated way that it did when Roman touched her. Or in coolness as when her father threatened her. This was pure animal, survival instinct.

Cold, social skills were the only thing she could call upon, like old friends. “Pardon me?”

“No.” Clipped. Final. A duke could do no better. No one in her vast acquaintance could.

She thinned her lips into a smile. “It is not every day that I receive threats to my life. I want to make sure I have the wording correct. And how is Roman’s life in danger?”

Bill opened his mouth, but a slicing hand gesture from Andreas had Bill studying his cards again, beyond agitated. It seemed that no one save for Roman ever spoke back to Andreas.

“You’ll go your way. I’m sure that you
will
accept Trant’s proposal in a few weeks as well. Be a fine
lady
and leave the room as messy or clean as you entered it.” He started flicking cards again.

“I think you grossly overestimate my impact.”

“For your sake, let’s hope so.”

The door opened, and she knew Roman entered, but her eyes were still frozen on Andreas.

“I’m promoting Peter. That’s all there is to it,” Roman said, and she could hear the door close.

Andreas’s eyes held death and destruction, then he looked down at his fingers,
blinked,
and only boredom remained in his expression as he finished dealing.

“What did I miss?” Roman plopped into his chair, hands pulling his cards toward him, quick eyes taking in everyone at the table, narrowing in turn. “Everyone’s getting along well, I see.” Pinning Bill, whose eye slid from his. Charlotte wondered if the man would spill the conversation later, or if Andreas would get to him first.

She wasn’t sure she wanted Roman to know.

The hand played quickly. No one spoke much, as everyone seemed quite eager to avoid Roman’s eyes.

Surprisingly, she easily won, her cards clear winners.

“Milady wins this hand. Good game,” Bill said more cheerfully.

“Did you think she would be the one to lose?” Andreas asked, as if it were an insignificant question, only the darkness in his eyes stating otherwise.

Silence met the pronouncement and stretched uncomfortably. Roman’s quick, narrowed eyes took in the players, trying to piece together what had occurred.

“Another game of Commerce?” he asked, almost casually, concentrating on Bill.

“Think it’s time to turn in, Boss,” Bill said, chuckling uncomfortably, not meeting his gaze. “Milt? See if the boys have things in hand downstairs? I’ll even come with ye on the rounds.”

Milton shrugged into his jacket, scraping his chips into a cap he pulled from the sleeve. “Can’t turn that down. There was some trouble at the highway last night. Gent murdered. Be good to have three eyes there for a few minutes tonight.”

They said their farewells, adding more gentlemanly ones for Charlotte, then slipped from the room more quickly than she imagined they normally would.

Andreas tapped his tricks on the table, then threw them into the center. He made a dark noise and rose, grabbing his jacket in one smooth motion. He turned and walked to the door.

“I’ll speak with you later,” Roman said evenly at his departing back.

Andreas didn’t halt, just signaled something over his shoulder. Something that she guessed wasn’t exactly a kind gesture. The door slammed behind him.

Silence stretched over Charlotte as Roman’s eyes remained narrowed on the wood.

“What an ass,” he finally said.

She cleared her throat. “Your brother doesn’t approve.”

He made a little hand gesture. “He doesn’t approve of anyone.”

“No.” She laughed without humor. “You shouldn’t have brought me here. It will just cause you trouble.”

“What did he say?” The question was casually asked, a thread of coaxing beneath.

She pressed her lips together.

Roman sighed and pushed his chair back, obviously confident that he would find out later. “Don’t pay whatever it was any mind. It’s just his nature. He’s overbearing. Especially with recent events.”

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